


Can't Find My Glasses

by wesleyfanfiction_archivist



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-06
Updated: 2006-07-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 10:21:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6466540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesleyfanfiction_archivist/pseuds/wesleyfanfiction_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wesley can't find his glasses</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Find My Glasses

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Versaphile, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [WesleyFanfiction.net](http://fanlore.org/wiki/WesleyFanFiction.Net). Deciding that it needed to have a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the e-mail address on [WesleyFanfiction.net collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wesleyfanfiction/profile).

Wesley felt along the pebbled ground in frantic circles. “Do you see them?” He asked.

“No Thelma, I don’t, they could be anywhere, and I can hardly see in this dark cave myself.” Cordelia complained. “Can’t we just go; you have an extra pair at your apartment don’t you?”

“Yes. But how am I supposed to drive home? I can barely see my hand in front of me.” Wesley complained. 

“I’m still looking Wes.” Came the sound of Angel’s voice from behind them, then the crunch of glass. “Uh…never mind.”

Wesley stood up, brushing off his knees. “Isn’t that bloody brilliant! Thank you Angel, I can see why they call you a savior.” He said sarcastically.

Angel handed him the ruined remains of his spectacles. “Yeah. Look, I’m sorry, really. I’ll take you home and you can bill me for a new pair, alright?”

Wesley looked somewhat mollified as they started towards Angel’s car. “I suppose that will have to do.”

Cordelia hopped in the back seat. “Don’t be such a dick Wesley; Angel saved you from having your brain sucked out by those slime demons, killed four of them by himself. I think he’s a hero.” She beamed at him winningly.

Angel raised one eyebrow as he looked back at her. “I’m not buying you anything Cordy.”

Cordelia scowled. “Oh fine, forget it then. Just drop me off and I’ll spend the entire night scrubbing demon guts out of my shirt because I can’t afford dry cleaning. “

Angel sighed defeatedly. “Bill me for the dry cleaning, Cordelia. Just save the guilt trip for another time, huh? “

“Sure thing boss.” She said happily.

***

Wesley turned in his doorframe. “You didn’t have to walk me up, I could have made it.”

Angel shook his head. “No way, didn’t want you falling down, suing me. I’m in debt enough tonight.”

Wesley laughed. “Do you want to come in? I’ll make some tea.”

“Sure.” Angel shrugged. “Thanks.”

Wesley excused himself to go find his spare pair of glasses. Angel sat back on Wesley’s sofa, flipping through _Book Review Monthly_ absently as he waited, wishing Wesley had better magazines. After fifteen minutes had passed, he stood with a sigh and wandered down the hall to Wesley’s bedroom. “Problem?” He asked, poking his head in. It looked like a bomb had gone off, clothes and books strewn about the room.

“I can’t find them.” Wesley said irritably, rubbing his temple. “I looked in the nightstand, bureau, the loo cabinets, everywhere. “

Angel shrugged. “I dunno. What’s left?”

“Can you look in the closet? I’ll double check my bureau.” Wesley offered.

Angel nodded, opening the various shoe boxes at the top, then the trunk at the bottom. There they were, neatly placed beside the journals Wesley always wrote in, old habits dying hard. Angel was about to call out to tell Wesley he found them when he stopped, and opened the journal dated yesterday instead. It chronicled everything they did that day, their new client, and the research on the demon they had killed tonight. Also it had a lengthy description of what Angel wore, what he said, how he smiled, everything he had done. And unless Angel’s eyes were deceiving him, the tiny doodle at the bottom left hand corner looked suspiciously like a heart. “Any luck?” Wesley asked, coming up behind him. 

Angel shut the book and turned with the glasses case in his hand. “Ta da!” he grinned.

Wesley smiled back, slipping the spectacles out of their case and onto his face. “Much better. Everything is clear now.”

Angel looked at the book in his hand before placing it down with the other journals. “Yeah. I think so too.” He stood up and put his hand on Wesley’s shoulder affectionately. “What were you saying about tea?”


End file.
